We Were Emergencies
by TryingCrying
Summary: Cisco has always needed help that he doesn't always get. Between being a metahuman and one of the few remaining members of Team Flash, Cisco needs some help picking up the pieces after the events of season 3.
1. Chapter 1

Joe hadn't set foot in Star Labs for at least a month after Barry left. _Left_ was a generous term, but he didn't know how else to think of it. His children were still alive, that was the only reason Joe was coping as well as he had been. Though, _coping_ was a generous term.

Iris was only alive because of the sacrifice of an innocent man, and Barry was "missing" so completely that it wasn't much different than being dead.

His small victory today was finding that the lab was in better shape than he'd been expecting. Most of the monitors were overturned and electronic parts that he couldn't even name littered the floor. The control panel still stood, though it was impossible to tell the extent of the damage beyond burnt wires. But he had brilliant minds on speed dial who could fix this. If anyone wanted to.

Joe was standing in the main doorway of the cortex when he recognized the prickly feeling in the back of his mind; he wasn't alone. His cop's training kicked in faster than his logic; spinning on his heels to face the nearly dark room, Joe put a hand on his holster. It didn't make sense for anyone to be here, and he didn't felt like he was being watched, but he felt the presence of another person even before he could see them.

The pipeline had transferred its prisoners to Iron Heights soon after the storm had struck. So it should be just as abandoned as the labs now. It could be scavengers or looters just as easily as a scorned metahuman back for revenge.

Joe barely spotted the figure curled against the far wall, their outline almost invisible in the blackness.

Joe screamed, louder and longer than he'd like to admit, but there was only one witness. Joe's gun hand came up almost instantly. Then his sense of facial recognition caught up.

"Cisco?"

Cisco didn't lift his head from the floor, but he pulled the arm covering his eyes back to his side. He was curled on the floor against the far wall, out of the way of most of the debris, huddled in on himself like a child without a blanket in the cold.

"Ow." Cisco said, squinting up at him. "Could you please not? With the screaming?" Then he blinked a couple times. "Joe? The hell are you doing here?"

Joe shoved his gun back into its holster, hoping Cisco hadn't seen it. "I'm gunna ask you the same thing, and I'm going to expect my answer first."

Joe leaned over the smashed remains of a desk and flicked the far light switch. To his surprise a few of the overhead lights sputtered to life.

Cisco yelped and a hand flew to his face to cover his eyes. " _Lights,"_ he hissed, and Joe fumbled for the switch again. In the near darkness it was difficult to see, Joe's eyes adjusted slowly.

"You alright?" He asked as Cisco hauled himself into a sitting position against the wall.

"Simulations." Cisco mumbled, tugging fingers through his matted hair. "I needed to run some simulations, even more calculations, a bunch of science shit that I can't get done at home." He gestured to a cracked but faintly glowing monitor propped on a workbench in the corner. "That's the only thing in here I could get working."

The wiring job was sloppier Cisco's usual work, but the screen showed a slowly ticking progress bar.

"Simulations." Joe echoed, picking his way across the room, consciously trying not to look at the empty space where the Flahs's suit was once proudly displayed. "Cisco, what are you doing here?"

"Trynna get Barry back." Cisco whispered, not turning to look at Joe as he slid down the wall to sit next to him.

"No." Joe pulled out his best soft but stern parenting tone, but even with his slowly adjusting eyes he could see Cisco flinch at the drawn out syllable. "That's what you're running the simulations for. What on earth are you doing lying in the dark in a deserted lab all alone?"

When Cisco didn't answer he switched tactics. "Do you really think you can do it? Get Barry back?"

"No prison is perfect, even one in the speedforce. Really Joe, that's your fist question? Cause all week I've been asking myself if I should even try. If Barry even wants to come back. If letting him out will mess up the whole speed force or maybe wreck the whole city. Not _do I think I can do it."_

It was Joe's turn to take a moment of silence. He wanted to say _of course Barry wants to come home. I know you can crack it, Cisco. Everything will go back to normal._ But he can't get the words out.

"What are _you_ doing here, Joe?"

"Left some case files." His voice quavered, even though it wasn't a complete lie. He did leave a stack of files here that night and hadn't come back to get them. The files were all of cases long closed by now.

"Wanted to see what was left?" Cisco spoke the words aloud that he couldn't. "It's not much."

"We could fix it." Joe whispered.

Cisco snorted, "Us and what army? Everyone is gone, Joe. I'm sitting right here talking to you, and to be frank I'm not even really here, you know?"

Maybe there were a couple of other things to fix, first.

"How are you doing, Cisco?"

Cisco laughed, one of the most genuine laughs Joe had heard from him since Caitlyn went AWOL. "How am I doing?" He mimicked the concern in Joe's voice. "How am I _doing?"_

"I'm trying here, Cisco. Really, how are you holding up?"

"Joe," Cisco sounded utterly defeated. "What day is it?"

It wasn't difficult to tell that Cisco had lost weight, even in the low light it was plain to see. Joe hadn't looked at him, really looked at the kid, for a long time. His hair was unwashed and knotted, skin covered in bruises that were mysteries to both of them, his hands were shaking.

Joe had seen Cisco pull Barry from the speedforce, open portals to places he couldn't even fathom, and bend space and time with the snap of his fingers. But right now he just looked frail. Of all things, he looked young. It was a shame, taking care of Cisco had always been Cisco's job, but sometimes that was too much for him to handle.

"What day is it?" Joe repeated, "Why? Is today supposed to be something special?"

"No." Cisco rubbed his forehead, "No, I just can't remember."

"Cisco..."

"Don't ask me if I'm alright."

"I won't, I won't kid, don't worry. Think we both know the answer to that."

Joe put a hand on his shoulder, feeling Cisco jolt at the touch. But Cisco was too tired to move away.

"What can I do?" Joe's usual list of remedies included homemade soup, ice-cream cones, and offering days off school as bribes. None of which would be a cure all in this situation.

"What would Caitlyn do, when things bad like this? What would you tell Barry to do, if he were here?"

Cisco shrunk away, burying his head in his hands.

"I know they're gone and that doesn't help, but you have to tell me so I can help you."

Cisco's answer was so quiet Joe almost didn't catch it.

"My meds," Cisco mumbled.

"For your headaches?"

"You could call them that."

"I remember what the bottle looks like, where are they?"

Cisco pointed, finger twitching, to where his backpack was shoved under one of the lab tables.

"Have you taken any today?" There was no dosing instructions for metahumans on the labels.

Cisco shook his head. "Dizzy," he muttered, sounding miserable. "I can't get up to get them."

"Alright, well that's an easy fix." Joe clapped his hands together, and regretted it instantly when Cisco flinched. He made up for it by crossing the room in three steady strides, shaking out the small bottle from the mess of papers and crumpled receipts.

He shook out two of the oval pills and held them out to Cisco.

He swallowed them dry as Joe read the label. "Oxcarbazepine?"

Cisco shrugged, pressing a thumb to his temple. "Yeah, they usually only prescribe it for people who have Trigeminal Neuralgia."

"What?" Cisco didn't have to look up to feel Joe's shock.

"Yeah yeah, I know. But Caitlyn dragged me to every single doctor this side of the boarder until she found one that would give me something strong enough to help."

"And will they help?" Joe knelt beside him again, searching his face for change.

Cisco checked his wrist, then remembered he didn't wear a watch in this timeline. "If I'm lucky. In about three hours, if at all."

"Jesus kid, you've been keeping this behind closed doors? I know Bar called your powers dangerous, but he didn't specific that they were mostly a danger to you."

"Relax Joe, things aren't getting worse, per say. You're just getting a front row seat."

"Oddly enough that fact doesn't help me relax." Joe pushed himself to his feet, "come on, you really should be at home, asleep."

"I won't argue with the sleeping part, but it doesn't matter where I am, it ain't happening."

"One problem at a time." Joe held out his hand. "Think you can walk?"

Cisco pulled a face, so Joe looped Cisco's arm over his shoulder, supporting most of his weight as they limped awkwardly to the exit.

"Come on, I've got the patrol car with me, I'll give you a ride home."

Cisco looked back at the still filling progress bar, then relented. "One condition, if I wake up in the back of a cop car and start freaking out, don't let me try and jump out, ok?"

Joe ran a hand over his thinning hair, "Cisco, have you ever been in a cop car before?"

"Not important. But I did vibe myself doing that once in some other universe when you tried to drive me to the drunk tank. It didn't really hurt and it scared the hell outta you which was hilarious." Cisco saw the look on Joe's face. "But I think once is enough."

"Yeah," Joe echoed in his best _not amused_ voice. "Once is enough." He'd have a good laugh about the story, but now wasn't the time.

"Can you not turn the siren on?" Cisco mumbled, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Don't want your landlady to know you got dropped off by a cop?"

Cisco shook his head. " _loud."_

"Ok, don't worry, I'll put just the lights on and have you home as fast as a non-speedster can, alright?"

Instead of saying _thank you,_ like Joe had been expecting, Cisco said "I know a good grief counselor."

"What?"

Cisco swallowed. "After Dante I saw a lot of them. I still have the numbers of a few good ones, if you want. Some of them do family therapy, if you and Iris and Wally..." He trailed off. "Or on your own, you all lost someone important, you should be talking to someone."

"Cisco," Joe sighed. "I find you passed out on the floor of a desolated star labs running tests by yourself after what, three days of no sleep?" he guessed.

"Two." Cisco corrected, like it drastically changed the situation.

"After _days_ of no sleep and in so much pain you can't cross the room to get your medication and you're lecturing _me_ about the importance of seeking professional help?"

"I absolutely am." Cisco's mouth pulled up in a defiant smile. "And I get to. My high horse is on the high ground. I still go to bereavement group."

Joe almost stopped walking. "You do?"

"Never stopped. After Dante...after Caitlyn, after Barry. You could come sometime, if you like. Not saying it fixes everything. I mean my two best friends are still gone probably never coming back and I can only afford a therapist every other week, and bereavement group is still just a bunch of strangers sitting in a gym plus a good way to accidentally end up vibing other people's worst memories. But still I go."

Despite his better judgement, the words tumbled from Joe's mouth. "Sometimes I wish you had the protective older brother you deserve."

"You don't get to talk about Dante." Cisco spat the words, venom in his tone, though the expression on his face barely changed.

"Alright, alright that's fair." Joe back peddled.

Cisco shook his head, a hiccup in his breath that could have been a laugh or a cough. "Nothing's fairs and you know it."

"Goddamnit, Cisco." Joe just sounded tired as he stopped in front of his car, opening the door so Cisco could wedge his way into the caged off back seat.

"What?" cisco sat for half a second, then immediately laid down across the cracked fake leather. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no. We, we should have helped you, long before this point I mean."

"You did." Cisco's face crumpled in concern, "You all did. I mean I—"

"Cisco," Joe cut him off, gently. "We should have done a better job. We... _I_ shouldn't have let it get so bad before I came to check up on you."

"You came here to get some files." Cisco pointed out gently, even though Joe had left his stack of papers inside.

"Go to sleep, Cisco," Joe said, turning the keys in the ignition.


	2. Chapter 2

Dante only ever called on emergencies or birthdays, today fell somewhere in between but Cisco knew he still wasn't going to hear form his brother.

That didn't stop him from obsessively checking the ringer on his phone. All it did was distract him at work and overwhelm him at home. By the time his mother called, Cisco had to retrieve his cellphone from where he'd thrown it across the room for the fifth time.

The conversation was short. He mostly listened.

"Sí. Sí, gracias" He moved the phone away slightly so she wouldn't hear him sigh. "Yes, I told you I'd get it done." Cisco pulled at a string on the hem of his shirt. "I dunno, next week probably? Sí, Estoy comiendo lo suficiente."

He jumped when there was a knock at his door. He hadn't been expecting anyone. His two best friends were MIA, and unexpected visitors in his life tended to be unpleasant. He considered grabbing the baseball bat he kept in the closet, but it wasn't like he needed any weapon other than himself.

"I have to go, lo siento." He hung up through her protests. "Adiós, te amo."

The peephole reveled his visitor was Iris West, arms crossed.

"Cisco, it's me—" She had just raised her fist to knock again when the door swung open.

Face to face she towered over him in her heels.

He blinked up at her. "Iris?"

"You know Cisco," She didn't look angry, but she didn't have to. "It's kind of next level when you start forgetting your _own_ birthday plans."

Cisco took a step back, but it wasn't exactly an inviting motion and Iris remained in the doorway. "They're not my plans! You and Wally..." he took a breath, steering his tone away from accusing, "worked very hard to put things together."

Iris checked her wrist despite not wearing a watch.

"How late am I?"

"Well, if you were going to meet us there like you told me last week, that would have been twenty minutes ago."

"Shit."

"Come on," She grinned, "You don't have to worry, I lied to you because I knew you'd be late. We still have twenty minutes before the movie actually starts."

"You think of all people I'd see that coming, wouldn't you?" Cisco grabbed his jacket from where it lay crumpled in the floor of the entryway.

"Wally's outside calling a taxi."

"You really did think of everything."

Iris ushered him out the door as he halfheartedly shook the winkles from his coat.

"Happy birthday, Cisco."

/

They'd settled on some inoffensive spy flick. The acting was truly atrocious and Cisco nearly fell asleep before the big plot twist, but Wally laughed at every single one of the prat falls so it wasn't a complete loss.

He'd lost the plot about halfway through because Cisco got lost wondering if he could vibe actors through a movie screen. Or their characters, even though they were fictional. Multiverse theory, right? They might be real in some version of all this chaos. Could he figure that out just by sitting in a movie theater and concentrating? It'd been a while since he'd actually thought about using his powers on purpose. Usually they used him.

Iris nudged his knee, breaking his train of though. "Cisco? Earth One to Cisco? I know you haven't been out to see a movie in a long time, but the small white text usually means it's over."

"Hmm?" He blinked, looking around for some way to play it off. "Sorry, my foot's asleep."

Wally stuck out a hand, but Cisco just looked at it and stood without his help. He felt the look the siblings exchanged behind his back, but let it go.

Wally stretched as they made their way towards the exit, vertebrae audibly cracking one after another. "I'm _starving."_

"You're always starving, just like..." Iris paused, but covered the silence by zipping up her jacket as they stepped out into the evening air. "That is just like you."

"Come _on,_ Iris, a strict diet of speedster food gets the job done but it tastes like cardboard. Tell me pizza doesn't sound good right now."

"There is a really good mom and pop place like two blocks over." She stopped walking, "Cisco?"

He didn't like how much it felt like she was asking his permission, not his opinion. He wanted to go home, but he didn't need to be able to see the future to know how Wally's face would look if he said no.

"Pizza sounds good." Cisco shrugged, and shoved his hands into his pockets. He couldn't remember the last meal he'd eaten that wasn't cereal.

"Yes!" Wally pumped a fist in victory. "Oh my god Cisco you're gunna love this place, Iris took me there last week and it is _amazing._ "

At this hour they were almost the only ones in the whole restaurant, which took an embarrassing amount of weight off Cisco's shoulders. He didn't like public spaces to begin with, least of all if there were other people there.

They took the corner table, Iris and Wally arguing over toppings before they'd even slid into the booth.

Cisco didn't need to visibly look to know where the exits were, but he did anyways. He'd never been there before, which lately he'd begun to appreciate more and more. It was a luxury to enter a building somewhere and not have it be a minefield of old and sour memories.

"Mushrooms?" Wally repeated, pulling Cisco back into the present moment.

"What?"

"Do you like mushrooms?" Wally waved a menu.

"Right. Um. I guess so?"

"You guess so?" Wally turned to his sister, shaking his head. "Who doesn't have a definitive opinion about mushrooms on pizza?"

"That was a positive answer, Wallace. You've just been outvoted. Mushrooms it is."

Wally stuck his tongue out, and Iris mirrored the face, both breaking out into stifled laughter as the waitress came to take their order. Cisco smiled, despite himself.

"So, Cisco." Wally leaned his elbows on the table. Cisco instinctively shrunk back, then felt foolish. If Wally noticed he didn't bring it up. "I hope you know the next time you get black-out drunk at a West family gathering I'm going to put your hair in curlers just like that guy's in the opening scene."

Iris giggled so hard she snorted. "The pink plastic ones? I think I have a set like that at home from like sixth grade. Cisco, do you wanna try them out?"

"Do I?" Cisco twisted a strand around his finger. "You don't even have to prank me when I'm drunk, I want to see what that looks like for myself."

"Dude." Wally looked between the two. "You know you and Iris basically have the same hair, right?"

"Hell yes we do!" Cisco held up a hand and the sound of their high five echoed through the small space.

Iris squealed with laughter. "Oh my god, Cisco can I borrow your glasses? I could totally be Vibe for the company Halloween party."

Cisco was laughing so hard he needed a moment to catch his breath. "Man I dunno how—"

The vibe hit him so suddenly he stopped mid-sentence.

It didn't take long for Wally and Iris to recognize what was going on. They'd seen it before, the way Cisco's eyes slid out of focus, like he was staring past the plastic table and linoleum tiles at something else. The sudden silence mid conversation had creeped Wally out the first couple times Cisco had spaced out on him, but he'd learned quickly.

"Cisco?" Iris asked, gently, all the humor suddenly deflated from her voice.

She reached a hand out slowly across the table.

"Don't touch me." It wasn't a rebuke, Cisco's slurred the words without any anger, but Iris drew back like she'd been burned.

"Are you alright?"

"I..." he stopped, closing his eyes. "I dunno." Cisco's voice sounded different, lower, scratched.

"What did you see?" Wally tried not to be pushy when it came to making Cisco talk. He kept most of the vibes to himself unless they were mission critical. Sometimes curiosity got the better of Wally. "Did you vibe the future? The past? Earth twenty-nine?"

Instead of answering Cisco pinched the bridge of his nose, tipping his head back.

"Cisco?" Iris pulled a napkin from her purse, leaving it on the table but reaching no further. "You're bleeding."

"Oh." He looked at her like he'd only just realized she was there, only half recognition drifting across his face as blood slowly trickling from his nose.

"What did you see?" Wally tried again.

"Seems unfair." Cisco muttered.

"What does, Cisco?"

"To be happy." Cisco ignored the napkin and wiped his face with the back of his palm, studying the bloody smear it left like he was surprised to see it there. "So many versions of us just aren't..."

Iris reached for Wally's hand, not like she did when she was scared, but the way she did when she needed a hug but knew now wasn't the time.

"Aren't what, Cisco?" She ventured, voice shaking. In one of his more talkative phases, Barry had told her how Wells had discovered the way to trigger Cisco's visions. Iris wasn't about to push him.

"Aren't us." Her soothing tone was lost on Cisco, who continued to keep his eyes trained on the floor, one hand pressed to his chest so hard it was shaking.

"Cisco, were in _this_ reality. We're safe, for the moment at least. See? Everything's ok." She didn't know how to convince him that they weren't in danger. She didn't know how to convince herself of that.

Cisco laughed, though it was unusual and jarring. "Seems unfair, to all of us, doesn't it?"

Wally opened his mouth, but nothing he wanted to say came out.

"Sometimes I get confused," Cisco dropped his head into his hands, his hitching breath steadying slowly. "That's all. Difficult to keep track of... _not fair."_ He kneaded a fist against his eyelids.

Iris sat, trading increasingly uneasy glances with Wally. Cisco never really made sense when trying to explain his vibes, but this was worse than either of them had seen him before. And they were all crushingly aware that the two people best equipped to help him weren't here.

When Cisco opened his eyes again it was like he was seeing them for the first time. He took in the West siblings across from him in the bleach-scented plastic booth, the flickering florescent light in the doorway, the absent sun that he didn't remember watching set.

"Dammit." He hissed, taking in their pitying faces. "Sorry, shit, I'm so sorry."

Cisco cracked his knuckles one by one, looking around to the exits again. His hands were burning, like the time he and Dante had gone sledding when Cisco was seven and Dante had convinced him to put his near frozen fingers under hot water. There were several possible reasons why this feeling persisted after vibes sometimes, but he didn't want to think of any of them.

No one had come up with a tactful way to break the silence before the waitress returned with their pizza. Cisco felt her eyes linger on him, and no matter how innocent or sympathetic the glance was, it hurt like she'd slapped him. This was supposed to be a normal night. The waitress wasn't supposed to stare at them and they were supposed to stay way past closing and tip way too much. He wanted to know what kind of horror movies everyone liked so they could plan movie nights on Fridays. He'd wanted to ask Iris to teach him to braid his hair.

His imagination had no trouble conjuring Dante's voice. _Freak,_ it hissed. In reality the conversation had played out more like _Metahuman? Why didn't you tell me?_ But there were plenty of realities where it hadn't, and he could hear all of them just as clearly as his own.

Cisco caught the waitress's sleeve.

"Can you tell me where the bathroom is?" He pulled up his best fake smile as she pointed to the far corner of the restaurant.

"Cisco," Iris warned as he slid from the booth.

"Need some air." He didn't look back.

Didn't find the words to thank them the pizza, or for taking time off to celebrate his birthday. He didn't concentrate on where the portal would take him. Didn't care if the blue light spilled out past the crooked stall door of the cramped and moldy bathroom. Just stepped through the breach and wondered how long it would take Iris to send Wally after him.

Dante still wasn't going to call, but that didn't stop Cisco from hearing his voice:  
 _Happy birthday Cisco._


End file.
